


in my heart and on my mind

by cathect



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Best Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Honestly It's Really Just Sappy as Fuck, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 16:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathect/pseuds/cathect
Summary: -In fact, he barely thinks about it at all, right up until Steven sits down across from him in the student union and asks, “Have you thought about it?”Andrew forces himself to move slowly as he closes his laptop. He could play this a number of ways, but oblivious and nonchalant is always a safe bet, so that’s what he picks.“Thought about what?” He sounds distracted, believable, as he closes the notebook in front of him as well. It’s not like he’s going to get much studying done now, anyway.Steven rolls his eyes. “You know.” He waves his hand around in a myriad of movements before it settles and he leans forward and lowers his voice. “Having sex.” When Andrew doesn’t immediately change his tune, Steven juts his chin out. “With me.”-or, the college au in which steven asks andrew to take his virginity.





	in my heart and on my mind

**Author's Note:**

> this fic came to be because erin and i were talking about stadam vs standrew in terms of steven losing his virginity. she decided to take stadam and created [this beautiful fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392517). now, here i am with my standrew fic! and i'm a sucker for college au's and best friends to lovers, so here's your daily dose of that!
> 
> thank you as always to erin for beta'ing, and for being such a wonderful hypeperson for this fic! i probably wouldn't have finished it without your support!

“If I asked you to take my virginity, what would you say?”

The question comes so suddenly, so casually and out of the blue that Andrew nearly drops the joint in his hand. He fumbles with it a few times before he has it securely back between his fingers. He can’t be bothered to worry about the ash that’s landed in his lap because Steven is looking at him from the other side of the couch with wide eyes, clearly waiting for an answer.

“Umm.” Andrew takes a moment to collect his thoughts, and he swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “I would say— uhh, what?” He laughs dryly as a poor attempt to calm the storm of nerves brewing in his chest.

Steven rolls his eyes and leans over to snatch the joint away from him. “I just.” He brings the joint to his lips and inhales, holds the smoke for a few seconds, and lets it go. It’s a quick thing, but it’s long enough that Andrew’s pulse starts humming as he wonders _just what?_

But Steven goes quiet again, and a dopey grin pulls at his lips until it completely takes over his face. Andrew has to reach out and smack his thigh lightly to get him to focus back in.

“What?” Steven asks, like he’s not the one who started this conversation— this absolutely _ridiculous_ conversation, the outcome of which Andrew isn’t sure he wants to imagine.

Andrew sighs harshly through his nose. “You were asking me—?”

“Right, right!” Steven’s eyes burn into Andrew’s with frightening clarity. “My virginity, right. I just mean, like, we’re best friends.”

It’s not a question, but he’s staring at Andrew like he’s supposed to answer, so Andrew just says, “Right.”

“Right! And you have experience.” He gives that same expectant look and Andrew shrugs.

“I guess.” It’s true that he does, more than Steven at least, but it still doesn’t explain why Steven thought to ask _him_. That’s not something you ask your best friend to do.

 _Especially_ not when that best friend has been in love with you for years and hasn’t gotten around to dealing with it yet.

“See?” Steven says, beaming bright as ever. “So, it makes sense. You and I,” he gestures wildly between them with one hand, “should have sex.”

“Steven,” Andrew says shakily. The storm beneath his ribs is rumbling on, only growing in intensity, and he wills it to settle down. “I don’t think that logic is very sound. I think it might be the weed talking.”

Steven shakes his head, sending a few stray locks of silvery hair bouncing against his forehead. “Nah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” Andrew stops breathing, but Steven doesn’t seem to notice. “Can you pass the Cheetos?”

Andrew’s grateful for the request, because it gives him the chance to catch his breath as he grabs the bag sitting on the coffee table. His hand shakes as he passes it to Steven.

With Steven distracted by the arduous task of getting the bag open, Andrew allows himself to stare openly for a second. He takes in Steven’s pink cheeks and mussed up hair, and knows he’s in way too deep for this idea to be anywhere close to good. Before he has the chance to tell Steven as much, the other boy shoves a few Cheetos in his mouth and the _crunch_ startles Andrew out of his thoughts.

“God, these are good.” Steven speaks with his mouth full, holding the bag at eye level and studying it like he’s made a grand scientific discovery. “Why would anyone ever eat anything besides Cheetos?”

Andrew can’t help himself: he laughs as he pushes Steven’s arm down enough to see his face. “Because they have virtually no nutritional value— listen, Steven.” He rushes through his words, barely stopping for a breath. “What you’re asking of me, it’s not— well, it’s not something that friends normally ask of each other.” This time, he does pause and a couple of unreadable expressions flit across Steven’s face. “I mean. You _are_ asking me, right? Actually asking?”

“Mmhmm!” Steven doesn’t even hesitate before he answers.

In their years of friendship, Steven has always seemed like a _shoot first_ sort of guy, and this situation is no different. He considers an abnormally large Cheeto before tossing it into his mouth.

“I wanna have sex.” A bit of orange comes flying out of Steven’s mouth on the s and lands on the back of Andrew’s couch. Steven hurriedly wipes it away. “Sorry— _anyway_. I wanna have sex, and you were the first person that came to mind.”

The thought shakes Andrew to his core, and it takes all the willpower in his body not to let it show on his face. He distracts himself by taking the joint back from Steven and taking another hit.

Steven’s mouth twists like he’s thinking. “Well,” he says, “you and Adam, but I don’t think Adam would agree to it.”

Vaguely, Andrew wonders how high Steven is right now that he’s saying all of this so candidly. As loud and sincere as Steven always is, even he usually has limits. Andrew’s starting to feel pretty fucking clear-headed himself, especially at the mention of Adam’s name. He loves the guy like a brother, but the idea of him touching Steven like that has a jealous rage burning in Andrew’s chest that he doesn’t like at all. He decides to chalk it up to the sudden sobriety.

Andrew leans forward and puts out the joint in the small, cat-shaped bowl on the coffee table— something Steven saw at a Goodwill and immediately bought for Andrew. He discards his green lighter too, and it falls with a clatter onto the wood.

“Hey!” Steven says, grabbing at the air like he could still save the joint from its fate. “I was still smoking that.”

Andrew shakes his head warmly. “I think you’ve had enough, buddy.” Steven pouts, but digs into the Cheetos again, and his grin returns at full force a moment later. It’s nearly blinding, and Andrew looks away for the sake of his eyes (and his heart).

They sit in silence for a while, save for the obnoxious sound of Steven munching away. Andrew’s just about to ask for the remote— maybe some _Parks and Rec_ will clear his mind— when Steven speaks again.

“I just want it to be with someone I trust.” When Andrew looks over, Steven is still staring at the bag of Cheetos like the answers to life’s questions are hidden in the nutrition facts. There’s a little frown playing on his lips and it makes Andrew’s heart hurt. “I know it’s dumb, but. I don’t want to regret it, you know?”

Andrew’s reaching out before he can stop himself, and he rests his hand on Steven’s knee. Steven looks up and, _god_ , Andrew really is a sucker for those puppy dog eyes.

“Okay,” he says. Steven perks up, and Andrew immediately cuts across whatever thoughts he’s having. “I’ll think about it.”

Steven pins him with an indescribable stare. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Andrew nods once and expects the conversation to be done. But Steven is still staring, and he crosses his arms over his chest. Andrew widens his eyes in question, and Steven narrows his own in response. Andrew gives an exasperated and overly-fond sigh. “Steven, I promise I will _think_ about taking your virginity.”

He barely even gets the last word out before Steven tackles him in a hug, Cheetos tossed haphazardly aside, and nearly sends them both to the floor. It startles a laugh out of Andrew, and Steven’s giggling in his ear, and everything just feels _good_.

“Alright, okay!” Andrew shoves at Steven’s chest when the hug goes on just a little too long for his own comfort. Steven goes without complaint, and fills the space on the other end of the couch that he left behind. “Can we watch some _Parks and Rec_ now?”

“Yes, please!” Steven grabs for a snack again— a can of Pringles this time— and smiles.

Andrew, head over heels as he is, smiles right back.

-

Three days pass and Andrew has pretty much resigned himself to accepting that Steven forgot.

Forgot, or maybe just thought better of it when he sobered up. Either way, he hasn’t said anything to Andrew or acted any different since that day, so Andrew doesn’t bring it up either. He sets aside his bruised ego and shoves his feelings for Steven back into their box in a far corner of his mind. He’s got finals coming up soon, and he can’t afford to let this ruin him until he’s safely at home for the summer and can drown his sorrows in ice cream and porn.

He does pretty well for the next two days. In fact, he barely thinks about it at all, right up until Steven sits down across from him in the student union and asks, “Have you thought about it?”

Andrew forces himself to move slowly as he closes his laptop. He could play this a number of ways, but oblivious and nonchalant is always a safe bet, so that’s what he picks.

“Thought about what?” He sounds distracted, believable, as he closes the notebook in front of him as well. It’s not like he’s going to get much studying done now, anyway.

Steven rolls his eyes. “You know.” He waves his hand around in a myriad of movements before it settles and he leans forward and lowers his voice. “Having sex.” When Andrew doesn’t immediately change his tune, Steven juts his chin out. “With me.”

“Oh, right.” Andrew swallows and looks away. “I, umm. Yeah, I have.”

Steven grins excitedly. “And?”

Andrew wants to say yes, wants it more than anything in the world. He wants to touch and taste and satisfy that need deep inside of him to map out Steven’s body with his tongue. He wants to hear every noise that his best friend is capable of making. And more than all of it, he wants to do this for Steven because he _asked_ for it. He wants, he wants, he _wants_.

“I don’t know,” is what he says.

Steven groans, and drops his forehead onto the table with a soft _thunk_ before he looks up at Andrew through his eyelashes. “C’mon, am I really _that_ unattractive?”

“No!” Andrew nearly shouts it, and even draws the eyes of a few students. “God, no— Steven, that’s not why.”

“Then _why_ _?”_ Steven draws the word out into a whine and, if Andrew wasn’t so madly in love with him, it would probably be annoying. Instead, he just wants to fall to his knees and be honest. It’s on the tip of his tongue anyway, and it would be so easy.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” The truth claws at Andrew’s insides as he swallows it back down. “I mean— what would people think?”

By people, he means Adam, who’s known from the start exactly how Andrew feels about Steven. Adam, who’s watched on with pity in his eyes as Andrew has struggled to keep his feelings locked away. Adam, who’s gotten more drunk phone calls from Andrew than sober ones in the last few months. Adam, who’s probably dying for Steven to find out the truth, if only so he can be put out of his fucking misery.

Steven looks confused by the question. “Who says anyone has to know?”

“I— I just—” Andrew scrabbles for an answer, but can’t quite seem to latch onto one.

“Listen, I want to do this.” Steven’s hand appears on the table in front of them, palm up. An invitation. Andrew takes it before he can think about it. “Do you?”

Andrew can tell by the way he asks that he already knows the answer. It isn’t clear just how much of the truth he knows, but it’s enough that there’s no use lying about it. “Y-yeah.”

“Then…” Steven waves his free hand around again, like he’s asking _what’s the big deal?_

Between one blink and the next, the lights in the union are suddenly way too bright, and Andrew’s resolve is cracking under the weight of Steven’s stare. He tries to look anywhere else, but he can’t. Steven’s too magnetic, and Andrew’s too in love. Steven squeezes his hand, and Andrew crumbles.

“My place. Friday. Eight.” Andrew stands up and pulls his hand back. Steven smiles up at him as he nods, and Andrew refuses to let his knees wobble. He tries to think of something, _anything_ else to say, but comes up short. “I— okay. Okay.”

Steven’s soft “ _thank you”_ echoes in his ears as Andrew rushes off to a class that doesn’t start for another half hour.

-

Andrew wakes up on Friday morning and cleans.

It’s not like Steven hasn’t seen his place dirty. Hell, he’s seen it _trashed_ and been there to _help_ trash it. At movie nights with their friends and parties and, sometimes, just when they’re hanging out alone. But this is. It’s different, okay?

He won’t let himself admit that he’s panicking, so he busies himself with menial tasks that couldn’t possibly matter in the long run, like reorganizing his closet and dusting off that oversized lava lamp in his living room. He’s not a neat freak by any means, but it gives his hands something to do besides shake.

At noon, he goes out. He makes a quick trip to the campus store, takes two steps inside, and then decides it won’t have what he wants. He climbs back into the car and makes the small trek out to the closest Target to do his shopping. He picks up some things he knows he needs, like toilet paper and plastic forks. He throws some other stuff in as well, like snacks and that shirt he’s had his eye on, because his basket looks empty and he shops when he’s anxious.

He picks up a bottle of wine because it feels like the right thing to do. It’s cheap, and probably doesn’t taste any better than the beer they normally drink, but at least it’s _wine_. It’s only when he’s passing by an array of condoms that he stops.

He feels a little awkward, standing in Target, staring down three shelves worth of condom boxes, but he can’t for the life of him remember if he’s got any at his apartment. And condoms are something they absolutely need tonight. It hits him again, as he’s tossing a box into his cart: he’s having sex with Steven tonight.

He throws in a bottle of the more expensive lube and tells himself it’s an investment, not something he’s doing specifically for Steven.

After he gets home and unloads everything, he waits. He waits and waits and waits some more. He waits so long he feels like he’s going crazy, but he can’t justify getting everything ready when it’s only three o’clock. Why did he say eight? Why did he do that to himself?

He considers making dinner for them. It’s not like it would be _that_ weird; cooking is something he enjoys, and he’s made food for Steven before. He could whip up something simple like spaghetti or that chicken salad sandwich that Steven loves. He’s got the ingredients for both. He gets all the way to pulling out the recipe for his mom’s spaghetti sauce when he realizes that dinner might have implications. Dinner might make it seem like Andrew thinks this is a _date_. Which it’s not, he reminds himself, no matter how much he wishes it was.

In the end, he pulls out his psych notes. He really does need to study for that final, after all. It’s hard, but he eventually manages to lose himself in it— psychology is one of his favorite subjects, and all the information he needs to know is just interesting enough to keep his mind occupied for the time being. He runs through flashcards once, twice, three times and, by the time he looks at the clock again, it’s 5:43pm.

At six, he showers. He washes himself from head to toe, more thorough than he’s been since prom night his junior year. And then he does it again. It can’t be all that great for his skin, but the hot water relaxes his shoulders and, besides, better safe than sorry.

At seven, he nearly has a breakdown because he has no idea what to wear. Which is ridiculous, because this is _Steven_. But what exactly does one wear when taking their best friend’s virginity? He struggles for a while, but he finally settles on black jeans and a light blue v-neck. It’s a color that Steven has said looks good on him, and so what if he lets that factor in? He’s only human.

He gets dressed, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, and he’s back sitting at the kitchen table by seven-thirty. Ten minutes later, his phone buzzes.

**_from: steven_ **

_[7:41pm] can’t make it. sorry._

Andrew stares at his phone for a long time, long enough that the words blur together and swim across the screen. Nothing about the text sounds like Steven. It’s too abrupt, too monotonous, and there’s a jarring lack of emojis. The confusion morphs into concern, and Andrew quickly types out a reply.

**_from: andrew_ **

_[7:44pm] what? is everything okay?_

**_from: andrew_ **

_[7:45pm] steven?_

**_from: andrew_ **

_[7:47pm] are you okay? i’m worried._

Ten minutes go by. Nothing. Another fifteen. Nothing. Andrew tries calling, but all he gets is Steven’s voicemail: _Hey! You’ve reached Steven Lim! I’m super sorry I missed your call, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you the absolute first moment I have the chance!_

Concern turns to panic, and panic turns into heartbreak when the clock on his phone blinks from _7:59_ to _8:00_. Slowly, almost like it’s not real, Andrew registers what this means: Steven just stood him up.

The realization crashes over him so suddenly that it takes the air from his lungs. His hand flies out to grab at the edge of the table, and he grips it so hard that his knuckles turn white. His heart aches in his chest, and he has to blink back a sudden onslaught of tears before he can stand up.

It was just going to be sex; Andrew knows that. He never fooled himself into thinking it would be _more_ , but that doesn’t make it sting any less. It doesn’t take away any of the pain or make it any more bearable. It doesn’t change the fact that his best friend just ditched him with no explanation. That would hurt in any situation, even a normal one.

“Fuck,” he whispers as the tears finally start to spill over. He can’t tell if they’re angry, dejected, or both, but they burn as they roll down his cheeks. He rubs at them with the heels of his hands, like he can erase the evidence, and stands to put the bottle of wine away.

On the walk to his bedroom, he tries to call Steven again, one last-ditch attempt. Maybe, this time, Steven will pick up, and he can explain what the fuck is going on. Andrew holds the phone to his ear, cautiously hopeful.

 _Hey! You’ve reached Steven Lim! I’m super sorry I missed your call, but_ —

Andrew hangs up, climbs into his bed with all his clothes still on, and goes to sleep.

-

Andrew is brushing his teeth when Steven finally calls him back. It’s Sunday, close to midnight, and Andrew’s been working on a paper since six. He’s exhausted and, frankly, all he wants to do is sleep for the next month.

Even so, he can’t help reaching for his phone— it’s been two days of radio silence from Steven and, as angry and hurt as he still is, he’d still like to know what the fuck happened. What did he do wrong? Why did Steven change his mind?

He’s still debating on whether or not to answer when his phone gives one last buzz and falls silent. It lights up with a _missed call_ notification, and Andrew sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror.

He’s being ridiculous. This is _Steven_ , his best friend of nearly ten years. The person he trusts more than anyone else in the world. The person he loves, as frustrating and taxing as it can be sometimes. And, what does he know? Steven could very well have a great reason for bailing at the last possible second. If he does, Andrew wants to hear it.

He spits out the remaining toothpaste and rinses his mouth with water, deciding to just rip off the bandaid and call Steven back. Just as he unlocks his phone, it starts buzzing again, so unexpectedly that Andrew almost drops it into the sink. As soon as it’s safely in his hand again, he hits _answer_.

“Hey, what’s—?”

“I’m outside.” Steven sounds breathless, anxious, and Andrew can tell he’s talking faster than normal just from those two words. “Can you let me in?”

Andrew blinks at his reflection a few times and his brain practically runs a marathon to catch up. Once it has, he nods even though Steven can’t see him. “Yeah, I— uh, yeah. Yes.” He internally smacks himself for sounding like such an idiot, but swiftly makes his way out of the bathroom and down the hall to the front door of his apartment.

“Hey, sorry. I know it’s late, but I wanted to talk to you.” Steven starts speaking the moment Andrew opens the door.

Andrew can’t fight the small smile that tugs at his mouth. “Okay.” Just being near Steven has any hostility he felt before melting away like snow in the spring. He shuts the door behind Steven and turns to face him. “You wanna sit down?”

“Umm.” Steven rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, sure. Okay.” He awkwardly toes off his Converse and leaves them in the front hall.

Together, they head into the living room and sit down on the couch, the same place this whole situation started. There’s a palpable tension in the air and Steven is perched so far away from Andrew that one would assume this is his first time here, not the millionth. A second later, Steven springs to his feet.

“Yeah, no. Sitting’s not going to work,” he says.

Andrew quirks an eyebrow but stands up as well. “Alright.” His hands itch with the need to reach out for Steven, to comfort him, because the distress is so clearly evident on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“No!” It’s like the word bursts from Steven’s chest. It startles Andrew, and it must show, because Steven runs a hand through his hair and says, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Andrew replies breezily, even though his heart rate is struggling to slow down. “Just. What’s going on?” Steven looks at the floor, towards the kitchen, at the television. At anything but Andrew. “Steven, talk to me. Is this about the other night?”

Steven throws him a half-glare. “Duh.” Andrew laughs, really just a quick exhale through his nose, but it evidently calms Steven down enough to take a deep breath. “Yes, it’s about the other night.”

Andrew nods. “I hope you know, I’m not mad.” And he’s _not_ mad. Not anymore. Not now that Steven is here, making an effort to fix whatever it is they broke. “You were always allowed to change your mind.”

“But, I didn’t!” Steven’s hand shoots out and grabs onto Andrew’s wrist. He glances down, a blush highlighting his cheeks like he didn’t mean to do it, but he doesn’t pull away. “I didn’t change my mind.”

Now Andrew is even more confused than he was before. “You didn’t?” Steven shakes his head so fast that Andrew thinks it might roll off his shoulders. “Then what—?”

“I just.” Steven’s free hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit. “I realized I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons. I wasn’t _asking_ for the right reasons.”

“What do you mean?” Andrew’s tone is casual, but his heart is pounding in his chest. His brain is jumping between a hundred different conclusions, most of which are too good to be true.

“I mean.” Steven clears his throat around the catch in his voice. “The reason I asked you, it wasn’t— it’s not just because you’re my best friend.”

Andrew’s heart has moved onto full-on gymnastics. “It’s not?”

“It’s.” Steven sighs again, more frustrated this time than anything. “It’s because. Because I. Son of a _bitch_.” He’s stumbling over himself. Trying to find the right words, or struggling to force them out, Andrew can’t tell which. “Andrew, I—"

Andrew takes a leap of faith. “I’m in love with you.”

The words come barreling out from behind Andrew’s teeth, where they’ve been hiding for the better part of the last year. Hell, for the last two, maybe even more. Half of him wants to reach out, grab the sentence from the air, and find a way to shove it back into his mouth before it can reach Steven’s ears. The other half wants to say it again, over and over, until his throat is raw. The two sides go to war in his stomach, and it turns over uneasily under the strain.

Steven frowns, and his eyebrows draw together, and it feels a little like Andrew is being slowly stabbed to death. Like maybe he really was misreading everything Steven just said to him.

Andrew is debating moving to Mexico and changing his name when Steven says, “I wanted to say it first.”

Andrew can’t help himself. A laugh bubbles up out of his chest. Steven looks alarmed but, once he realizes Andrew’s not laughing _at_ him, he buries his face in his shoulder and joins in. His fingers have trailed down to twine with Andrew’s and he squeezes gently.

Steven makes a small noise in the back of his throat and pulls back. “Oh! I love you, too. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Andrew agrees with a smirk.

Steven shoves at Andrew’s shoulder playfully. He glances away and the blush on his cheeks deepens. “I, umm, have for a long time.”

Andrew feels like he could faint. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steven replies easily. “Like, our whole friendship.”

“Are you serious?”

Steven blinks at him. “You really didn’t know?” When Andrew shakes his head, Steven narrows his eyes. “You _really_ didn’t know?” He asks again.

Andrew laughs and shakes his head again. “Steven, I promise on my life, I had no idea. Cross my heart.” He mimes the action on his chest and Steven giggles. Andrew lets go of Steven’s hand, and reaches up to cradle his face instead. “Does this mean I can—?”

“Dude, I’ve only been waiting, like, a decade.”

Andrew rolls his eyes and leans in.

The first kiss is quick, light, just a press of closed lips. Steven’s lips are soft and his hands find their place on Andrew’s chest like they were always meant to be there. Andrew leans back to ask if it was okay, or maybe just to say _holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening_. But he doesn’t get the chance to do either before Steven pushes forward again.  
  
Steven kisses like he does everything else: open and eager. He gives without having to be asked, and Andrew takes his fill, licking into Steven’s mouth and swallowing the soft gasp he gets in return. He tastes like coffee and spearmint gum, and Andrew grins into the kiss when he realizes that’s one question answered on the list of things he’s always wanted to know.

One of Andrew’s hands drops to Steven’s hip, pulling him even closer. Steven’s fingers bunch up the fabric of Andrew’s shirt like he’s holding on for dear life, and he sighs. It’s a happy sound, content, and Andrew pulls away, determined to speak this time.

“We should have been doing this _so_ fucking long ago,” he mutters, kissing the corner of Steven’s mouth.

Steven hums in agreement and brushes their noses together. “Does this mean we can have sex now?” Just like last week, Andrew is absolutely shell-shocked by how just how bluntly Steven asks. He huffs out a laugh and opens his eyes, only to find Steven already looking back at him.

“Yes, fuck, of course we can,” Andrew says, his dick speaking for him even as he regards Steven with a serious look. “If you’re sure.”

Steven glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Of course I’m sure.” Then, his expression softens, and he adds, “Please?”

It only takes one more second of looking at Steven’s face— his kiss-bruised lips and dark blush, the way he’s looking back at him expectantly— before Andrew nods. “Yeah, okay.”

Steven’s answering smile could light up the world.

It takes them much longer than it should to get from the living room to Andrew’s bedroom. They stop every few feet so that Andrew can press Steven against the wall and kiss him again, but Steven doesn’t complain. In fact, by the way he whines and rolls his hips into Andrew’s, he seems perfectly content to never reach the bed.

When they do finally make it through the door, Steven immediately begins to strip. In the blink of an eye, he’s throwing his shirt across the room and working on his belt. Andrew can’t seem to move, too enthralled by watching as more and more of Steven is revealed to him. Sure, he’s seen his best friend naked before, but this is different. Insanely different.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Steven asks, now clad only in a pair of black briefs. His blush carries down his chest and tapers off at his stomach and Andrew can’t stop staring. He only looks up again when Steven waves a hand in front of his face, having somehow magically moved to stand right in front of him without Andrew noticing. “You need some help?”

Andrew’s about to say no, of course he doesn’t need help taking off his clothes. But then he feels Steven’s hands at the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping underneath and raising goosebumps in their wake. “Maybe,” he says, barely more than a whisper.

Steven smirks and starts to lift his shirt, nails scraping over Andrew’s skin as he goes. Andrew raises his arms over his head to help the process along, and Steven stands up on his toes a little to get it all the way off. He barely takes a breath before he starts on the tie of Andrew’s sweatpants. He gets it undone and kneels down to tug them down his legs, leaving him in his boxers. And, _god_ , Andrew has to look away before he says something stupid. Like how fucking good Steven looks on his knees.

As if on cue, Steven looks up with those wide, innocent eyes, and Andrew feels like he might burst. “C’mere.” He hauls Steven to his feet. “As good as you look on your knees,” _god dammit, Andrew_ , “I guarantee you’d look better on my bed.”

Steven snorts. “Jesus, that was bad.” Andrew opens his mouth to protest, but Steven shakes his head. “No, I’m serious. Andrew, that was _terrible_. Please stick to your stupid puns.”

Despite his words, and his laughter, Steven turns away and climbs up onto the bed. He settles onto his back, legs falling open and looking so fucking inviting that Andrew follows without having to be asked. Their bodies slot together perfectly and Andrew, the sap he is, fights not to comment on it. It’s not too difficult when he can feel Steven’s cock, hard and hot against his own, even through the layers of fabric between them.

“You’re beautiful,” Andrew breathes, kissing Steven again. Steven hums and wraps his arms around Andrew’s shoulders to bring him closer. “So fucking beautiful.” Andrew lays kisses over Steven’s neck, stopping every once in a while to suck on the skin until bruises bloom out under his lips. Steven’s panting after a minute, desperately rutting against Andrew’s hip.

“ _Andrew_ ,” he moans, and Andrew’s lungs practically give out— even if Steven asked him to stop right now, he’s pretty sure the memory of that sound would be enough to get him off for the rest of his life.

He decides not to say as much; it probably isn’t the most eloquent compliment he could give Steven right now. “You sound so good,” he says instead, admiring the way Steven’s hips falter in their rhythm at his words. “Always knew you’d make the prettiest noises.”

“Please,” Steven whines. “Drew, c’mon. I want you to fuck me.” And he must really want it, because Steven never curses unless it matters.

Andrew’s brain shuts down completely for about three whole seconds, just from that realization, but he manages a nod once it comes back online. Steven looks back at him with heavy-lidded eyes, but his gaze is focused and pleading.

Andrew nods. “Yeah, let me just.” He does his best to untangle himself from Steven’s legs without kneeing him in the stomach, or worse. “M’gonna grab everything.”

Steven nods and unlocks his arms from around Andrew’s shoulders, allowing him to climb off the bed and walk over to the nightstand. There’s a rustling sound behind him as he opens the top drawer, and Andrew looks over just in time to see Steven tossing his briefs to the floor.

Steven rolls onto his side when he’s done, chin in his hand and looking at Andrew expectantly. He looks Andrew up and down, then gestures with his other hand, waving vaguely at Andrew’s underwear. Taking the hint, Andrew shoves his boxers down his legs. He kicks them off and away, and then blindly digs through the drawer in front of him because he can’t take his eyes off of Steven: naked, on his _bed_ , looking for all the world like one of Andrew’s fantasies come to life.

He finds the lube first, and tosses it to the bed without really looking. It hits Steven in the thigh with a dull _slap_ , and Steven’s gaze shifts from expectant to unimpressed.

“Sorry,” Andrew says through a laugh. Steven pouts, and it looks so out of place with his hair all mussed up, that Andrew laughs again. Steven’s face splits into a smile and Andrew feels his knees go weak as his fingers finally close around a condom, holding it up in victory.

Steven rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “Finally.”

Andrew tosses the condom toward the bed too, and it smacks Steven in the chest. “Shut up,” he says, unable to keep the fondness from his voice.

Steven giggles as Andrew climbs back up onto the bed, and settles on his stomach between Steven’s open legs. The bed is really too small for this, and Andrew’s own legs sort of dangle off the end, but it’s worth it for this view.

Steven watches with his bottom lip between his teeth as Andrew drizzles lube over his fingers, warming it up in his hand methodically. He’s done this before, at least a couple of times, and he’s determined to use his knowledge to the best of his ability. He wants this to be good for Steven, as close to perfect as possible.

Once the lube is warm enough, Andrew traces a slick finger over Steven’s thigh and watches his hips twitch in response. He drags his fingers lower, and looks up to meet Steven’s eyes. “Have you ever…?” For some reason, it feels too vulgar to ask outright. Especially when Steven looks like a goddamn angel lying against his pillows.

Steven blinks at him owlishly, but then seems to understand. “A couple times, yeah.”

He speaks quietly, like he’s ashamed of the answer. Andrew wants to tell him that he shouldn’t be, that just the thought of Steven with his fingers buried inside himself has Andrew seeing stars, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm him. So he just nods instead and kisses Steven’s other thigh. He sucks the skin into his mouth and bites down gently, smirking a little at the sound of Steven throwing his head back against the pillows.

“Andrewwww.” Steven draws his name out into a whine. “Come _on_ , will you just—?”

Andrew effectively shuts him up when he presses two fingers against Steven’s hole— not enough to push in, but enough to make him squirm in anticipation. Andrew kisses the bruise he left on Steven’s thigh, and looks up at him again.

“Okay?” Andrew asks, even though he knows the answer.

Steven nods. “God, yes. _So_ okay.”

Andrew lays his cheek against Steven’s leg and watches his face intently as he pushes in with the first finger. He moves slowly, probably verging on the edge of too slow, and stops when it’s all the way inside. Steven is impossibly warm and so tight that Andrew feels dizzy. His thoughts trail off to what it’ll be like when he finally gets his cock inside Steven, but snap back to reality when Steven speaks.

“M-move,” he says. “You can move.” Andrew draws his finger back out and presses back in, still moving slowly; Steven’s fingered himself before, but that doesn’t mean that Andrew won’t take his time. Steven has other plans, though, and he quietly asks for, “More.”

“God, you’re so impatient.” Andrew soothes the playful bite of his words with a kiss to Steven’s hip. Carefully, and without stopping the movements of his finger, Andrew makes his way up Steven’s body, leaving kisses in his wake. It’s not graceful by any means, and he jostles Steven a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Well, excuse me for wanting you inside me sooner.” Steven’s voice is all sarcasm; Andrew’s cock twitches at the words anyway. He buries his moan in Steven’s neck as he pulls out and presses in with two fingers this time. “Oh,” Steven breathes, and Andrew can only nod a little as he starts to thrust again.

Andrew determines that Steven must have been downplaying it when he said he’d only fingered himself a couple times; he takes Andrew’s fingers perfectly, fucking back onto them and keening when Andrew finds his prostate. Even when Andrew pushes in a third, Steven’s cock barely softens at all, and he only stills for a few seconds before tangling a hand in Andrew’s hair and begging him to keep going.

Steven is breathtaking, like a moving work of art, and the urge to kiss him burns too hot in Andrew’s chest not to give in. It doesn’t last nearly long enough before Steven’s loud moan breaks them apart.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and Andrew can’t help but smile. He makes it his new mission in life to make Steven always feel so good he can’t filter his words. “Andrew, I’m gonna come.”

Andrew’s almost tempted to keep going, to finish Steven off like this just because he looks so pretty. But he schools himself into pulling out his fingers, and Steven whines with the loss.

Steven all but yanks Andrew down into a kiss. “Please,” he says. “Please, Drew. Need you.” Andrew thanks every god who might be listening that Steven’s sentences are short and choppy. If he hears Steven say “fuck me” one more time, he thinks he’ll probably blow his load on the spot.

“Yeah,” Andrew says, fumbling to find the condom in the sheets. “I’m going.” Steven makes a small frustrated noise in the back of his throat when it takes too long, and Andrew chuckles as he finally finds the foil packet. He sits back a little and goes to open it, but Steven’s hand on his wrist stills his movements.

“Can I?” Steven asks, looking at Andrew with an almost nervous look on his face.

Andrew nods and hands it to him. “Yes, definitely. Absolutely, you can.”

Steven laughs at Andrew’s enthusiasm, but his cheeks burn bright red as he tears open the packet. Andrew reaches for the lube and squeezes more into his hand as Steven rolls the condom onto his cock. Andrew shudders at the touch and forces his hips to stay still, no matter how badly he wants to thrust into Steven’s grip.

When Steven drops his arms back onto the bed and smiles up at him, Andrew swipes his hand over his own dick, coating it in lube. He wipes it on the sheets when he’s done, and braces his other hand on the bed by Steven’s head.

“Ready?” Andrew leans down as he asks, and Steven’s answering _mmhmm_ gets lost in his mouth. Steven loops his arms around Andrew’s neck as they kiss, and pulls away licking his lips. “Okay,” Andrew says, mostly to himself as he holds the base of his cock in hand and guides it into Steven.

Steven tenses up almost immediately, and Andrew stops, but Steven shakes his head. “Don’t— don’t stop. I’m okay. Keep going.” Andrew wants to argue, but he knows Steven won’t have it. He moves at an almost incomprehensibly slow pace, and stops again when he’s about halfway in. “I told you—”

“It’s not for you,” Andrew says, voice strained. Steven’s tight and hot and so fucking good around his cock that he has to take a second to collect himself. Steven opens his eyes when he realizes what Andrew means, and his expression is just short of smug when he looks at him. “Oh, don’t give me that face. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

Steven shakes his head and draws Andrew close enough to kiss his face. “I think it’s sweet,” he says softly against Andrew’s cheek. “Do what you have to do.” The sincerity in his tone makes Andrew’s heart swell in his chest until it’s almost too big to contain.

Steven’s head falls back onto the pillows when Andrew starts moving again, and his fingers flex on Andrew’s shoulders. They both let out a breath when Andrew bottoms out, and Steven laughs a little, though he doesn’t open his eyes. It sounds a little like disbelief, and Andrew shares the sentiment.

Andrew takes a moment to stare. Steven’s hair is plastered over his forehead and his face is burning up, the blush running down his body. His chest is heaving for air, but he’s quiet about it, and his arms around Andrew’s neck shake faintly. Steven’s cock is leaking onto his stomach, and Andrew wishes he could get his mouth on it.

“You can— you can move.” Steven’s voice shakes and Andrew can feel him fighting not to squirm underneath him. _Impatient_ , Andrew thinks again, but doesn’t say. “Please, god, Andrew _move_.”

Andrew almost wants to make a joke, but the urge leaves him the moment he pulls out and thrusts back in. He does it again and Steven keens. It doesn’t matter that the pace is practically leisurely, or that Steven can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands— they slide down Andrew’s back, up to his biceps, to his neck and up into his hair. None of that matters when Andrew’s never felt so good in his life.

He struggles to find his voice, to tell Steven as much. “God, you feel… fuck, _Steven_.” He drops his face into Steven’s shoulder and sucks a lovebite into his skin like it’ll say everything he can’t. And, from the way Steven whimpers and nods his head, maybe it does.

When Andrew pulls back, Steven angles his head for a kiss that Andrew immediately gives him. It’s sloppy, all teeth and tongue and heavy breaths shared between the two of them. Andrew tugs one of Steven’s legs to hook over his hip, and Steven cries out when the new angle allows Andrew to hit his prostate on every thrust.

“Andrew,” he whines. “Andrew, m’not gonna last.” He lifts his other leg and locks his ankles at Andrew’s back, forcing his cock even deeper on the next thrust. Pleasure licks its way up Andrew’s spine and he almost loses his rhythm completely.

Andrew wants to boast his abilities, but he’s careening towards the edge just as fast as Steven is. “Me too,” he admits, reaching between them to wrap his fingers around Steven’s dick. Steven chokes on a sob as he starts to stroke, and Andrew brings their foreheads together. “Come on, Steven. Come for me.”

“Oh, god. Andrew, I’m—!” Steven’s words dissolve into a wordless shout as he comes onto his stomach, painting his skin in streaks of white. His nails rake down Andrew’s back, and the spark of pain only spurs Andrew on. Steven clenches down on his cock and Andrew’s orgasm hits him like a freight train.

“Fuck, Steven.” His hips move in aborted thrusts, stuttering and chasing the feeling until there’s nothing left. “I love you,” he says as he comes down. “I love you so much.”

Steven lifts his head enough to kiss Andrew, and mumbles into his mouth, “I love you too.”

They lay in the afterglow, Andrew still pressed deep inside Steven, and catch their breath. As Steven comes back to himself, the dopey smile on his face grows wider and wider, and Andrew can’t contain his mirth when he sees it.

“That good, huh?” He asks. Steven immediately smacks his shoulder, and Andrew just laughs. He pulls out gingerly— and very nearly gets hard again just from the soft whimper that works its way out of Steven’s throat— before he speaks again. “No, seriously. What?” He pulls off the condom and ties it off, then throws it in the general direction of his trash can.

Steven shrugs. “Just happy.” He holds Andrew’s face in his hands and kisses him. “Really, really happy.” His voice is sweet and dreamy, and Andrew has to blink back sudden, elated tears.

“Me too.” And it’s true. Andrew is so happy that he really does think he might cry.

Right up until Steven squirms and whines, “There’s come on me.”

Andrew laughs wetly. “Yeah, there is. And it’s yours, in case you forgot.” He sits up and stretches his arms behind his back. Steven’s eyes follow his movements but he gives no indication he’s going to follow.  “You wanna shower?”

“In the morning,” Steven replies around a yawn. “Can you grab me a washcloth? Or, I dunno, a sock, or something.”

Andrew snorts. “Right, yeah,” he says. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Steven’s eyes slip closed. “Mmhmm.”

As Andrew quickly makes his way to his bathroom, he can’t help but feel like a piece of his life has fallen into place. He’s tempted to pinch himself, just to make sure he’s not dreaming. To make sure all of that really just happened, that Steven really is in love with him too. It all feels too good to be true but, Andrew thinks, maybe that’s okay.

He wets a washcloth and brings it back to the bedroom. Steven is still laying with his eyes closed, but Andrew can hear him humming along to some song he vaguely recognizes from the radio. It’s unbearably cute, and Andrew almost doesn’t want to disturb him. But the floor creaks under his feet as he walks over to the bed and does it for him.

“Hey,” Steven says, propping himself up on his elbows. It looks awkward and uncomfortable, but he’s clearly trying not to get any come on Andrew’s sheets. Andrew appreciates the effort and finds it hilarious in equal measure.

Andrew smiles. “Hi.” Steven reaches out for the washcloth but Andrew shakes his head. “Let me.” If Steven thinks the request is weird, it doesn’t show on his face. He lays back down and Andrew swipes the cloth over his stomach and down between his thighs. He’s diligent and silent and stands up straight again when Steven is clean.

“Thanks.” Steven leans down to grab a discarded blanket from the floor and tugs it up onto the bed with him.

Andrew throws the washcloth onto his dresser and hits the light switch. The room goes dark, but the faint glow from the apartment complex’s lights filters through the blinds and illuminates Andrew’s path as he climbs into bed next to Steven.

“We’re going to cuddle, right?” Steven’s voice is small, like he thinks there’s any universe in which Andrew would say no.

Andrew opens his arms. “Of course we’re going to cuddle.” Steven smiles and nearly punches him in the jaw with how quickly he flings himself across the bed. “Easy,” Andrew chides.

Steven doesn’t respond, too busy wriggling around and adjusting his position until he settles in one he likes. Andrew’s arm is draped over his stomach, and Steven finds his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m glad I asked you,” he says, so quietly that Andrew almost thinks he imagined it. But then Steven brings Andrew’s hand to his lips and continues. “I’m glad I _told_ you.”

Andrew feels that urge to cry again and swallows it down. “Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

There’s more he wants to say, so much more, but his eyes are too heavy and Steven is too warm. He resolves to say it all in the morning, over the breakfast he’ll definitely be cooking, and lets the steady beat of Steven’s heart lull him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment letting me know what to think! validation is like the fountain of youth for me.
> 
> come visit me on tumblr @devilstrip.


End file.
